THE ROMANTIC I'DILIC LIFE OF ROSIE RYAN

Chuck Corona had his big strong hands around my neck and was throttling me. I struggled frantically and furiously, like a terrified rent boy in the clutches of the bald headed Boy George.
Chuck was growling like a black bare, I was whimpering like the dead and deseased Eartha Kitt when she was alive and at herself. Clumps of rushes were trampled, as the fierce struggle went on-down by the river side. Then, Chuck caught me under my newly shaved oxters and I felt my hobnailed boots leave terra firma. Chuck was as strong as a Pampas bull, he swung me round and round. My two hobnailed boots looked like an out of control kar-a-sell. I yelped, I shrieked, I guldered demurely and genteely. Black spots danced in front of my protruding oculars. My head was a mad whirly-jig of flashing images. I fought the vapors by pulling clumps of hare from Chuck's squat round head and trying to knee him in the ghoulies. With a mighty grunt and a ferocios breaking of wind, Chuck lifted me up in the air and threw me down on the wet rushes like a sack of spuds. I could feel the rank bog water seep through my sky blew gansey and permeate the grey simmet I took of my dead mammy before the coffin lid was nailed down. Waste knot, want knot, is the motto of us Ryan's. Chuck loomed over me, I gazed up at his raw, animal, savage mail beauty. The heavily cratered pox marked face, the broken nose, the too little glittering black eyes, covered by wan bushy eyebrow, the mouthful of uneven teeth, like tombstones in a cunt'ry graveyard. Chuck pursed his lips out, like a hen laying an egg and lowered them towards my feminine, rose bud mouth. Chuck's seeking rubbery lips met mine like a suction pump and threw every drop of saliva and drool out of my girlish mouth. I kicked, I flung, but 'twas all too know avail, I was lost, lost in the wonder and splender of-Lamore. My hart was leaping like a hungry canary in a cage. The blood was pounding in my head like the first signs of a stroke. My slender 18 stone body lay there supline as a boy with a broken back. Chuck kissed my cheeks, my mouth, my eyes, my nose, which saved me the bother of wiping it. I adjusted my girlish, maidenly body, which made the bog water gurgle seductively and wantonly. Chuck looked down at me, like the way man had bean looking at women since time began and mummered suggestively, "Rosie, wood you like a brandyball?" "Oh Chuck" I ejuclated, "A brandyball at this moment in time would be a joy of the utmost elegance and sophistication" Chuck and me lay in the wet rushes, crunching brandyballs with the utmost ease and contemtment. A snipe flying Hi in the air looked down at us, we looked up at the snipe, no communication passed between us and yet--we were all God's creatures, man, woman and snipe, all looking for love, happiness and a raison de'etra. I lifted myself up on wan elbow, which caused me to daintly break wind and make the bog water bubble. "Chuck" I simpered. "Yes, my deer" smiled Chuck. "Chuck" I repeated, "If you met a stranger, across a crowded room, how wood you describe she who is--Rosie Ryan?" "Chuck pursed his thick, rubbery lips, smiled like a boy who was having a stroke and replied. "Ah, how can mere man describe the beauty of a hangel? Your mane of red matted hare" said Chuck. "Your smile, would nock the Mona Lisa into a cocked hat. Your complection, only an out door girl could have a big wind blown bleezer like that, Your bust, like too bay windas, standing proud like the mountains of Mourne, or dumplings of gigantic size and mass. Your legs, too sturdy pillars of alabaster, tastefully motifed with blew viens in intrinsic swirlls and patterns that would do justice to the book of Kells. "Rosie Ryan IS-beauty" yelled Chuck. "The beauty of-Rosie Ryan is impossible to convey to mere-man. To any man who doubts the beauty of Rosie Ryan I say, Come and feast your eyes on her yourself and you will go away shaking your head and muttering, "In the name of God". "Oh you adorable wee doat" I trilled, kissing the gub off him and leaving him with more love bites than even Dracula could manage. Wen we came home, arm in arm, my sun Bon Jovi looked at us with an auld smirk on his face and said, "Well, well, well, if it isn't Romeo and Juliet, or should that be, Barbie and Ken". "Shut your face boy" I roared "and clean up the floor, I see you have bean disecting rodents and frogs again". "One must" said Bon Jovi "If one is to make one's name in the medical profession". "Bon Jovi" said Chuck. "Yes Chuck Corona" said Bon Jovi. "I was just wondering" said Chuck "If you, as the man of the house, have any objections to me going out with your mammy". Bon Jovi cleaned some mouse blood off his hands and said, "Knot at tall, I have bean trying to get her off my hands for years. But I thought fate was against me, what with the wild age she is and the big red bleezer of a face she has on her. Take her by all means, it wool save me having to put her into a home when she goes do-lally. But listen Chuck Corona, man to man, do the thing decent, take precautions, don't go showing up the lump of a cub before the neighbours, eh? that's a good chap". I lifted the poker and took after the wee gulpin, but I never did catch him, he's getting too fast for me, but I will bide my time and batter the big head of him when he is sleeping tonight. Old, with a big bleezer of a face am i? we will se who's face and ars derriere is bleezing tomorrow.

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